


Great! Zombie Soulmates, Just What I Needed In My Life!

by queeerqueeen



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Multi, Polyamory, SHIP DARCY WITH ALL THE THINGS, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:26:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7268182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queeerqueeen/pseuds/queeerqueeen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy was born with her words, and although that was not uncommon for girls, she had also been born with two sets of words, which was decidedly uncommon, not unheard of, but uncommon. On top of all of that, both sets of words were grey, and had been grey since the moment of her birth. Which was not only uncommon, but unheard of, because grey meant that your soulmate was dead and how on earth could very normal Darcy Lewis, not only have two soulmates, but two dead soulmates?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Multiple Marks

**Author's Note:**

> This work isn't Beta'd so please please please, if you find any mistakes tell me :D.

Darcy was born with her words, and although that was not uncommon for girls, she had also been born with two sets of words, which was decidedly uncommon, not unheard of, but uncommon. On top of all of that, both sets of words were grey, and had been grey since the moment of her birth. Which was not only uncommon, but unheard of, because grey meant that your soulmate was dead and how on earth could very normal Darcy Lewis, not only have two soulmates, but two dead soulmates? It had been a subject of ridicule throughout her childhood to the point that Darcy had learned to always cover them, despite their inconvenient placement on her wrists. Which then lead to more teasing about the fact that she always wore long sleeves or gloves everywhere. 

People learned not to bother her about it after the first couple kids ran home with bloody noses and fat lips. She survived this way through High School and college, up until she became Jane Foster’s intern. Then Darcy had been thrust into a world of Norse gods and aliens falling from the sky. Her marks hadn’t seemed to matter much after that. In fact, Darcy had been so occupied by the aliens, and gods, and general craziness that she hadn’t even noticed that her marks weren’t grey anymore until she and Jane had moved into the Avengers Tower and were required to get full medical check ups. 

Darcy was sitting in a sterile looking room on the signature doctor’s office examination table, which was covered in crinkly white paper, and swinging her legs back and forth impatiently while waiting for the doctor to come. She was still devoid of her iPod, thanks to Phil, and she was becoming more anxious and more pissed off by the minute. After what seemed like an eternity, but was in fact only 15 minutes, a woman in a long medical coat entered the room.

“Okay Miss… Lewis, is it? I'm going to need to take some blood and do a full body examination.” Darcy was not pleased, but she relented, she took off her gloves and rolled up her sleeves as the young doctor went to take blood and gasped. “Miss Lewis, I've not even touched you yet, what exactly is the matter?”

“I'm not scared of needles dimwit, my marks are black!” The doctor looked at her impatiently, not understanding the significance. “My marks have never been black… They've been grey since I was born.” The doctor raised her eyebrows, but continued to take blood. Then followed the lengthy, uncomfortable full body examination in which the young doctor wrote down every single thing that was wrong, or unusual about Darcy’s body before letting her loose. Darcy practically ran out of the office and reclaimed all of her personal effects before calling Jane in a panic. Jane picked up the phone and Darcy immediately began yelling. “They're BLACK now Jane, BLACK! That means that not only do I have two soulmates, but they have somehow been resurrected! When I meet them I'm going to murder them, I swear to god! Black, Jane, black fucking marks!” Eventually Darcy ran out of breath and Jane had a moment to intercede. She told Darcy to stay where she was and came to get her. 

… 

Darcy’s excitement over her marks decreased as she settled into a comfortable routine with the Avengers, at least the ones that were present. Darcy put all of her time into taking care of her scientists, making sure they ate and slept, helping them avoid potentially dangerous projects, which, admittedly, did not always work. She forgot about her marks during the day, but at night she’d lay there in bed, reading what they said over and over again. For the first time really looking at them. She chuckled at the one and despaired at the simplicity and common use of the other. The words stark black against her wrists. “Do you need help?” And, “You’re a girl with moxie, you can hold your own, right?” She could imagine the conversation now and she felt proud, knowing that her soulmate thought so highly of her after just meeting her. She rubbed her fingers against the mark as if that would somehow urge her soulmates to find her. 

It had become a bit of a bad habit, in fact. Whenever she was upset or stressed she’d rub the marks, sometimes to the point of rawness, only to remember that there was no use, that she’d have to wait like everyone else until the right moment, when she was meant to meet them. 

The more time that went by, the more anxious Darcy became to meet her soulmates and for the first time in her life she wondered if this was what everyone else felt their entire lives, knowing that they would meet their soulmates, just never knowing when. She decided she hated it, the feeling of knowing, but also not knowing anything at all. Slowly, she realized that everyone around her had already met their soulmate; Jane and Thor, Tony, Pepper and Rhodey, Wanda and Vision, Phil and Clint. She was the only one that was alone. 

… 

Steve had always loved his mark, especially after meeting Bucky, because it meant that there was someone in the world that was meant to love him. Meeting Bucky was like flying, they were inseparable. And then Bucky had died and Steve’s mark went grey, and he couldn’t help but curse fate for giving him something so precious, only to take it away far too soon. 

Steve flew into the ocean with a clear conscious, knowing that there was no one left out there to miss him. Knowing that he’d meet Bucky again in the afterlife. And then he had woken up, 70 years later in a world he didn’t understand, with a new mark curling around his bicep. At first he hated it, to him, 70 years hadn’t passed since Bucky’s death, and Steve hadn’t even been able to mourn yet, and here he was in the future, expected to drop everything to find his new soulmate and live happily ever after. So he did the exact opposite, he threw himself into working for S.H.I.E.L.D. and then, after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell and he met the Winter Soldier, his best friend and soulmate, he threw himself into the search for Bucky Barnes and nearly forgot about the curling, feminine script around his arm. 

… 

The asset did not care about the script on his skin, it meant nothing, it was not a promise, it was nonexistent. Bucky, on the other hand looked at the charcoal tattoo every time he could, every time that he was lucid and held to it and the chunky masculine writing that lay on top of his ribs, so close to his heart, like a life-line. Reminding him that there were people out there waiting for him to get back to them, waiting to love him. Every time the asset took over and Bucky faded into the background he screamed, waiting for it to be over, forced to watch as his body committed atrocities against his will. And then suddenly he was on a street in New York facing one of the people whose words were tattooed on his body and he could feel it burning, and for a moment he pushed through the fog of the asset’s programming and remembered Steve, remembered being held by him, being loved by him and it felt so good and so wrong at the same time. 

Everything ached, the strain of a mission weighing heavily on Bucky’s bones, the heat of his words scorching him. Need flowed through his veins as he fought against his restraints as once again the asset took over. And then suddenly he was on a riverbank, Steve laying next to him, barely breathing and he couldn’t stay, he didn’t deserve to stay. So Bucky ran, and now he was still running, still trying to hide, remembering more things every day. Like the way Steve’s hands felt on his hips and the way Steve used to shiver in the cold Brooklyn winter until Bucky drew him further into his body. Sometimes, Bucky would wake and feel as though his skin was still tingling with Steve’s feather light touch, his mouth still swollen with his kisses. And other times he would wake, drenched in sweat, face sticky with tears gasping for breath the remnants of a hand at his throat still making him choke. Those were the nights that reminded him that he couldn’t go back, that he didn’t deserve to go back. 

Bucky is tired of running, but that’s the only thing he can think to do, the only thing that he can let himself do. So he keeps running, and running, and running until finally everything has caught up with him and he can’t run anymore. And then Steve is there again, holding his journal, looking at the glossy printed picture of his own face and Bucky knows that this is another thing that he can’t run from anymore, so he doesn’t, he follows Steve and fights with him and wonders why Steve is even trying, why is he trying to save him from the fate he deserves.


	2. The Battle's Over, Or Has It Just Begun?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘It’s over’ is all Bucky can think. He doesn’t have to fight anymore, he doesn’t have to run. He’s been offered a home and shelter and there’s Steve, beaming at him through his split lip and bleeding forehead, and everything is okay. Bucky can’t remember the last time that everything was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work isn't Beta'd so if you see anything you think I should fix, let me know! Thank you SO SO SO SO much for all the lovely comments, I'm so glad you all like it so far, enjoy this new chapter.

‘It’s over’ is all Bucky can think. He doesn’t have to fight anymore, he doesn’t have to run. He’s been offered a home and shelter and there’s Steve, beaming at him through his split lip and bleeding forehead, and everything is okay. Bucky can’t remember the last time that everything was okay. Suddenly there are lips against his and hands on his waist, pulling him in. Bucky can’t bring himself to care that he should really stop, stop before one of them gets hurt. It feels so right, Bucky hasn’t felt this way since the last time he got to kiss Steve, over 70 years ago. 

… 

Steve pulls back and rest his forehead against Bucky’s, his chest heaving as he tries to draw in air. The exhaustion of battle finally wearing on his bones. He wants to tell Bucky how much he missed him, how much he loves him, how he never gave up on finding him. Before he can say anything the roar of the Quinjet takes over and Tony is stepping out and ushering them in, on their way back to New York. 

They spend the journey in relative silence, Steve anxiously pacing the expanse of the jet, praying that they reach Stark Tower as quickly as possible. Steve knows that talking to Bucky isn’t the only thing he needs to do, he needs to apologize to Tony too. Say thank you to him for understanding that it wasn’t Bucky’s fault, that he couldn’t have stopped it even if he had tried. Steve wants Tony to know how much this means to him, that he would put aside his anger over the death of his parents to let Steve keep his soulmate and his team. 

They touch down at Stark Tower and are welcomed by the warm, yet unfamiliar voice of Friday. “Mr. Stark. Ms. Potts and Mr. Rhodes are waiting for you in your quarters, they are most anxious to see you. May I help to escort Mr. Rodgers and Mr. Barnes to their living quarters?” Tony made an uninterested grunt and waved his hand as if to dismiss Friday to this task. He then turned to Steve and Bucky.  
“I trust the two of you can make it to your rooms without breaking anything? Friday will show you the way. We’ll have a debriefing tomorrow morning about what happened, we can talk after that Cap.” Steve nodded graciously, understanding Tony’s need to be with his soulmates as soon as possible.

Soulmates. Steve had almost forgotten about the feminine script that curled its way around his bicep. A reminder of how much had changed since his plunge into the ice. A reminder of what had changed between he and Bucky. Steve wondered how he was supposed to tell Bucky about it, how he was supposed to tell him that his body and his soul had betrayed them both. How despite the fact that he loved Bucky with his whole being, he still wanted to know, wanted to meet her. This new soulmate.

Neither of them spoke as Friday led them to their quarters. When they arrived, they shared a glance that said that they’d talk after both of them had gotten rest. Before retreating, Steve couldn’t help but softly kiss Bucky, reminding himself that this was all real, that they were really together again.

… 

Darcy counted herself lucky that Jane hadn’t been pulled into the Avengers latest dispute. Especially because that would’ve meant Darcy being pulled in as well. She preferred to stay out of the thick of it, thank you very much. However, Darcy was particularly concerned about her scientists three, or rather, mostly one of three… Tony. When she heard that he had returned to the tower she began to make her way to his floor as quickly as possible before remembering that he had two soulmates who no doubt needed to see him more than Darcy, the glorified babysitter, did. So she returned to her room, rubbing at her soulmarks as she walked. 

She tried to remind herself that it was just a matter of time before her soulmates finally showed up, but she couldn’t even convince herself. When she got back to her apartment, she flopped down on the bed and put her head in her hands. Finally admitting to herself that she was tired of waiting. Tired of sitting around helpless. Waiting for these people to come along and sweep her off her feet. So Darcy makes a promise to herself that she’s going to start doing something other than babysit scientists and moon over her marks. She’s gonna gain a little moxie, actually live up to her soulmates view of her. The next day after a very long session of mother henning Tony to make sure he was completely in one piece, Darcy sets out to find Natasha. 

She finds her in one of the training rooms, doing her normal badass female spy thing. Suddenly, Darcy is a little hesitant, maybe she shouldn’t ask Natasha to help her with this. After all Darcy knows from experience that her rather large breasts do not mix well with exercise… of any kind. Then, Darcy remembers what she told herself last night. She needed to be able to take care of herself, because you know, fuck the patriarchy and all of that shit. So, Darcy asks, Natasha agrees, and Darcy regrets it as soon as the running starts.

… 

Bucky wakes with a start in an unfamiliar room as panic washes over him. Had Hydra finally found him again, was he no longer free? Then as Bucky looks around his heartbeat slows, the bedroom is far too luxurious to be located at one of Hydra’s bases, let alone be given to their escaped asset. The events of the previous day come flooding back to him. Going back to Hydra’s base, fighting alongside Steve, Tony finding out that Bucky, the asset, had murdered his parents. And then of course, Steve’s lips on his, his body frozen, unable to reciprocate. 

Steve still wanted him, still loved him, even after all of the terrible things Bucky had done, after all the people he had murdered. Bucky was going to count that as a miracle, one he didn’t deserve. Bucky found the bathroom and disrobed, climbing into the hot spray of the shower head. As the warm water washed away the grime and filth over his body Bucky saw the words that circled his bicep and guilt washed over him with the water. How was he supposed to tell Steve, the soulmate he had just gotten back, that there was someone else out there waiting for him too. How was he supposed to tell Steve that sometimes this witty, sarcastic words tattooed there were the only things that got him through the brainwashing. How was he supposed to tell Steve about how desperately he wanted to meet this girl, his girl?


End file.
